Amite Obscuritatem
by TheEvilMuffinToaster
Summary: Time has passed, the Gods are fading. And this time, even the Demigods can't save them.- Percy/Olympian Gods, slight Percy/Hermes


Amite Obscuritatem _Clear Away the Darkness!_

Time has passed, the Gods are fading. And this time, even the Demigods can't save them.- Percy/Olympian Gods, slight Percy/Hermes

"_The spring is a spring we still cannot see.  
>When I come to a stop in hesitation,<br>The gaze of you, the one who gives me dreams,_  
><em>embraces my shoulders.<em>

_The spring is still a far-off spring._  
><em>If I close my eyes,There you are,<em>  
><em>the one who gives me love.<em>  
><em>Your voice I long to hear sounds.<em>  
><em>Spring, a spring I still cannot see..."<em>

"Haru yo Koi" by Aiko

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**1.**_ Life is not just our possession, forgetting things which we rely on. _

**.**

Somewhere, somewhere far away was a land long forgotten. Creatures long thought to be extinct scampered across the tall grass and others flew over the high hills that wove themselves across the land. Nestled deep in these rolling hills of a land lost in time, that were untouched by human taint was a dark cave that went on forever, where not even Echo's disembodied words could be heard. The cave was near-silent, except for the hissings of an ancient tongue unknown by man. It was the language of the Fates. Not even the Gods knew what it was.

Dim candles melted far into their holders lined the craggy walls, illuminating the faces of three old women marred by old age. The eldest one stood up and laughed. Her slithering voice was withered with age. Something gold tinkled in her fingers.

Many pieces of gold string, each just about the same size. That's what she held in her wrinkled hands. She held them in her fingers and held the strings out to the other two women. The strings glinted in the dim candlelight. They looked like metal.

Soon, the low _'clips_' of a pair of scissors scattered the silence that had been overtaken the cave.

The slithering voice cackled again and two words were whispered:

"_Time's up."_

**.**

**2. **_A time when obvious things you need for a living have become useless. _

**.**

It was winter, the air was cold. Spring was still a long way aways. With a sigh, Hestia stroked the fire with gentle prods and pokes at the burning logs underneath. The other twelve Olympians were gathered around in their respective chairs while Hades sat off to the side, looking glum and forlorn as usual. She looked up and spotted Dionysus, who gave her a small smile before returning to the conversation at forehand.

"I _still _say we get rid of Camp Half-Blood." Hades was saying in his smooth voice, the voice he used when he wanted to get his way. "The War's over. The World's safe, blahblahblah, and Daddy-kins will be down in Tartarus for the next three thousand years hopefully."

Athena glared at her Uncle. "You got your own cabin finally, isn't that what you wanted? Leave the half-bloods alone. We'd all be dead if it hadn't been for them."

_"_Correction! _You'd _be dead. Not me. I'm down in the Underworld and like Hell would I allow Daddy-Dearest to get anywhere near _my_ front doors."

"Stop acting like you're six Hades." Artemis commented.

"I'm acting like I'm six? Well, this six year old is at least getting some, _eternal maiden._"

"He's got you there Art – OW." The goddess jabbed Apollo hard in the side with her hunting bow and returned to glaring icily at her relative.

Dionysus scoffed. "You're all acting like children."

"Says the youngest of us all..." Apollo answered and then swiftly dodged another bow to the side, practically now sitting on the arm of his throne. "What was that for!"

"Don't be mean to Dionysus."

"Why? He already acts like he's on his man-period twenty four-seven so why can't I be mean to him? He's mean to me! It's obvious logic!" It was obvious logic to him at least. What done to one should be repaid in turn, no matter how bad the consequences. ...So what if it went against most philosophical ideas out there?

"Well, brother dear," Hermes answered, resting his head on his palm. "Erry'body makes fun of you."

"That's because _I'm awesome."_

_ "_You wish!"

"Stop Derping in my Herp, Hermes!"

"What in blazes is a _derp_–"

Hades waved around a hand. This managed to interrupt the two quarrelling gods and turned their rather short span of attention onto him. "Whatever helps you sleep at night kid. Maybe your awesome can get everyone to stop confusing you with Helios."

"Well...Well...!" He couldn't form an awesome comeback for a moment but when it did form, he smirked and pointed at Hades. "At least my Roman form isn't a dwarf moon of Neptune!"

"Shut up! It's still a planet! And I at least _have _a Roman form! You're the same person!"

"Because the world would explode from too much awesome had the Romans made the mistake of crafting a Roman me. _Duh_."

"That blond hair-dye must really kill your braincells."

"It's natural, you grease ball!"

"_I'm _the grease-ball? Shall I remind you of _your _habits during the Medieval–"

Hermes snorted. "You're fighting a losing battle there Uncle! Should we reminds you of your times during the Dark Ages? And besides! Pluto's an icy moon of Neptune! And Apollo got a rocket named after him. I think he beats you."

"Besides the rocket only proves to show how really big my di–"

"Don't you _dare_ finish that." Hera cut in, silencing Apollo with her glare. The God of the Sun shrunk in his chair and mumbled a half-assed apology.

Hades of course ignored Apollo and Hera and sneered at Hermes, who only grinned back "Do you _want _to be locked in a room with Cerberus again?" At Hermes' sudden change in expression, from a shit-eating grin to the displeased look of _do not want_, Hades only smirked and replied. "Good. Then shut up and be a good little boy."

Poseidon rolled his eyes. "He's three thousand years old. I think he's old enough to take care of himself now, brother."

"Could have fooled me," The Lord of the Dead shrugged.

"Hey, hey, no one picks on Hermes while I'm sitting here." Ares suddenly cast in.

"Thank_-you_."

"It's _my _job after all."

"...Never mind. I take back what I said. On subject of that, is it possible to disown you as a sibling?"

Apollo laughed again and crossed his legs. "Really, Ares. You shouldn't make fun of Hermes. Those snakes of his might decide to leave a little gift in your bed again."

The God of War grunted. That was a nasty memory Apollo brought up. He had pissed off Hermes and a pissed off Hermes was not a nice fellow. It really had gone all done hill from there. With a sneer, he looked at Hermes. "I didn't appreciate the colony of dead rats in my bed."

"Oh well." The King of Thieves only shrugged. "Not my problem."

Hestia smiled a small forgotten smile and prodded at the flames once again. It was indeed no business of hers to interfere with the Olympian affairs – even if they asked her opinion. She would stop her prodding of the smouldering burning logs, smile softly and point at Dionysus before returning to tending the fire.

The God of the Hearth had long ago given up her throne among the twelve. She had wanted to stay, but she too feared the dreaded number thirteen. So with lithe grace, she descended from her spot among the twelve and allowed Dionysus take her missing place.

Minded that she get a bottle or two from the God's private Winestock every decade or so.

Though all in all, when it came down to it, Hestia did not mind.

Then suddenly, Hestia was jerked from her thoughts when the poker dropped from her fingers; landing on the hearth with a loud noise and then proceeded to roll into the fire. The flames then begun to burn brightly.

Her small fingers clutched at the fabric over her heart, feeling the thing beat restlessly in her small chest. A burning feeling spread over her form, near like the sensation of being burned alive. Her heart begun to beat harder, shaking her small human form frame violently. She had yet to change into God form and had a feeling she would not.

Flames of the fire that she had just tenderly cared for started to lick away at her skin and the burning sensation increased, weaving its pain all her body. She hunched over, clutching at her heart with both hands as if that would stop the gruesome pain. She had never felt something like this. She...She was a god. She was not mean to feel something like this. This pain was meant for someone else, someone...someone who was going to die.

And then as soon as it had begun, the pain disappeared. The burning sensation dissipated and the flames receded back into the hearth, leaving a small red flame left.

Her heart began to beat harder than before. This only lasted a few moments because before long, she could feel her heart start to slow down and her breathing slackening. Her fingers that had clutched so tightly had begun to slacken their iron-like grip.

As the conscious world begun to fade in and out, the goddess noticed with a sick amusement that the Gods had gathered around her; frozen with shock and unable to do anything. They stood there like wall characters in a badly written novel. They should stood there, near their massive stone thrones with their eyes wide and jaws slack. Moments of vulnerability were frozen upon their magnificent faces. For a second, Hestia felt glad that she was disappearing; that she was causing them _pain_. They didn't realise the pain they had caused _her _sometimes. She hadn't stepped down for honourableness. She had stepped down because she _had _to.

The number thirteen was an evil number. As clocks for the Chinese and the number four for the Japanese, it has always been laid down as an _evil _number. So in the circle of the Olympians, there could only be twelve. And only twelve there would be. In an act of self-preservation masked with honour, Hestia stepped down and Dionysus took her place among the twelve.

And then with the pleasure of having finally reaped her vengeance spreading throughout her, the grip slackened completely.

Apollo was the one who had caught her. Hestia looked up at the Sun God and tried to raise her her. She had no strength left and the arm fell as the once strong heart beat its last few beats.

And Hestia was gone.

Soon, the body started to fade. The form lightening to the point where it was completely transparent and Apollo's arms could be seen. Then it started to disintegrate, forming into small gold like particles that shined brightly. The dust flew towards the hearth and the dying flame within it grew, rising toward the ceiling in a great column of bright fire.

For a small moment, a weathered face showed.

The face of a fate.

The fire then soon vanished, taking that varnished face along with, shrinking back into a small flame of orange before vanishing off completely – as if blown out by an invisible wind. The room felt colder, as if drained somewhat of life. It felt lonely now – lonelier than it had ever felt before. It was like the life of the room had gone out along with Hestia

A moment a silence passed before Apollo spoke.

"She's gone...Is she gone?"

A hopeful set of golden eyes looked to the Lord of the Dead, who grimaced. "I can feel when being higher of a human enter my realm. And Charon would definitely not keep a God waiting. She...She is not there. Hestia is no more."

Athena scowled at her Uncle, who looked away with a concentrated look set upon his face. "That's impossible. She is a Goddess. Now, Hestia may have not been apart of the Olympian Twelve, but she still was an honourable goddess. Of course, which I may remind you, are beings _that do not die_."

Hades only sneered in response. "Who said she died? We're _Gods, _Athena. As you said, we do not die. Therefore, there is no place for us. We do not live among the humans nor can we live among the dead! There is no where for us." He waved his hand around, a habit he picked up from his son obviously. "Don't you see? The reign of Zeus is _over_."

The aforementioned brother glared at his brother, who only sneered back. "It's not over until I'm disco-dancing in Tartarus!"

"Dear Brother. My dear, dear, elder sibling whose I.Q is probably on par with a small peanut." Hades smirked cruelly before his tone took on a nasty tone. "You're fools! Bloody benevolent fools! Hestia's gone! She's not dead, nor is she living. She's merely gone; only a legend as the mortals describe her as. She's disappeared – much like the monsters and the people of old! A wise man once said that the Gods feed their immortality through the use of humans. Well, time to face the music. No one believes in us any more!" The Lord of the Dead's voice took on a tone of hysteria. "No one's safe! Just Myths we are now. The fates have made the final decision and have cut the Golden Strings that bind our lives to the walking earth. Hestia was the first to go and she will be the first of many. One by one, we too...will all fade."

Hades' words wrung in their minds, like an endless mourning bell. His words struck hard.

"No one disagrees?" Hades sneered again at his relatives, taking some sort of sick pleasure in the pain they were most likely feeling. Did he care? No, he did not. For years, he had been shunned by the Gods and Goddesses; forced to live down in the Underworld for all eternity as some sort of _sick_, cruel punishment laid upon him by his two other brothers. He did not care if he lived or died – what did it matter? He was the God of the _Dead. _If he faded away, the dead would just return to the surface in hordes of rotting crowds; plundering the life of Earth with their fury of being stripped of life and the envy of the living. "Very well then. I'm returning to the Underworld. See you all next year." He turned away quickly before adding quietly. "Of course, if we're still here that is."

And with that, the Lord of the Dead disappeared.

This of course left a question burning in their minds

They were Gods, they could not die.

What would happen to them once they passed on?

"Oh _shit_."

**.**

**3**_. Since you can't see tomorrow, make it. _

**.**

To say that bad news spread quickly was an understatement.

A _horrible _understatement.

The sudden news of Hestia's untimely death had reached Camp Halfblood within hours. It spread like a bad virus; reaching everyone one by one with its sharp tone of truth. Now as it was known, Hestia was gone and she would not return. Not now, not ever. She had not descended to the Fields of Asphodel nor did she make her way to the Elysian Fields. She had simply disappeared from reality – it was as if she had never been there.  
>There was a problem though at Camp Half-Blood. Not just the death of the Goddess, but the fact that she bore no relatives. They knew from the history books that adorned the camp that Hestia had proclaimed long ago that she would stay a maiden forever and therefore did not have children who could mourn over her death.<p>

Everyone did not know what to do.

All of them were at a loss – both the Gods and the demichildren. After all, it was a rare thing when a God died. Humans died, they did yes. And animals did as well. But Gods?

Once in a while, they died. Whether it be the collapse of their kingdom – such as Pan – or murder by another, it was well known that they did not die. They were Gods. As human as they acted, everyone knew their immortality was what separated humans and the Gods. The people that believe in them fed their immortality; it's what kept them all alive for so long – even with the collapse of their own civilisation due to Christianity and the destruction of most of their monuments due to the invading Ottomans.

They couldn't die.

The Ichor within their veins prevents that.

Gods didn't die.

They faded.

Everyone was at a loss.

**.**

**4. **_I wonder if you are listening _

**.**

Seeing as Hestia's cabin was empty as she had sworn to be an eternal virgin, the entire camp had pitched in to make her a burial shroud and had lain it over the empty coffin before setting it aflame. It was understandable.

The whole camp mourned not only for her, but for themselves. With the fall of the Gods, what would happen to them? Would Camp Half-Blood break apart at the disappearance of the Gods? Would the world go dark without Apollo's light? Would Alcohol lose its potent without Dionysus's touch? Would the moon never grin again? Would the already dead walk the living world and would the living never die? Would the monsters that torment the world outside the borders of Camp Half Blood disappear? Would they _too_ disappear with the Gods, having only been blemishes on the plain of reality?

Most of them still had no idea who their parents were (it seemed the Gods were slowly meeting Percy's demands with the speed of a sloth) and now the thought that they would never be reunited with their Godly parent seemed to be eminent.

It was a sad day for Camp Half-Blood.

On the outskirts of camp, Percy and Annabeth stood hand-in-hand and staring forlornly at the black plumes that swirled towards the sky. The inky black smoke reached out towards the endless sky that was painted purple, blue and grey and looked murderous.

"I can't believe she's gone." Annabeth said sadly, turning to look at Percy.

The Demigod did not give her an answer. He stayed oddly silent and turned his head up towards the sky as if waiting for the answer himself. His green eyes blinked with what Annabeth thought were tears for a moment before the hero blinked rapidly and took a moment to stare at her, taking both his vulnerability and his tears with him. "I-I need to go think."

Annabeth frowned. "Do you want me to come wi–"

"Alone."

"Fine."

He gave the girl an indifferent hug and trudged off.

She did not follow.

**.**

**5**_. __I wonder if you are listening _

**.**

Dionysus went next.

He went quickly, almost entirely without a whisper or an indication that he had been in extreme pain. He had went the only way everyone had expected him to go.

Drinking.

Dionysus, Greek God of Wine and Party and the one who had been born twice, had gone out drinking.

He knew he was going to die, even though Zeus said that it was all a hoax and tried to shove the fear into the endless clouds above them and attempted to quell anyone who went against him. Dionysus broke the rules and had begun drinking. At that point, Dionysus did not care for any more horrible years tacked onto the fifty he still has at the horrible camp.

He had nursed so many drinks that day, trying so many shots and so many cocktails that the amount of alcohol that had to be the others system would have been enough to completely destroy any normal person's liver.

Dionysus had to go out drinking. It only made sense. He was the God of Party and Wine. If he wasn't drinking when he faded, then all would be wrong with the world.

Only a fortnight after Hestia's departure, Dionysus had been the next one to go. By then, he had probably killed approximately forty-three thousand two-thousand four hundred seventy eight braincells, completely destroyed about two humans livers had he been human and had drunk his way through the inventories of just about three liquor stores.

Halfway through a bottle of vodka, Dionysus had begun to fade. He didn't notice it at first. He had only paid attention to the shot of vanilla and diet coke he nursed in his chubby fingers. He brought the shot to his lips and drained it. The shot glass started to make its way back down to the table before the arm holding it slipped from his fingers and hit the table, rolling off and hitting the stone floor. It shattered into a million pieces and looked odd against the stone floor. The shards glittered under the chandelier that lit the room.

His chest seized up and he clutched it painfully, barely aware of the fact that Chiron had rushed towards him; Frank Sinatra playing mournfully in the background. The centaur was speaking something, but this something was something he could not hear. He was speaking something he knew he should know, but could not bare to try and find the strength to listen. There was too much silence in this little bubble and it was too hard to tear down the walls to let the sound back in.

The pain that spread over him was akin to being dipped in fire. Fire was painful; it licked away at the skin like a dog and bit and snapped at what lay underneath. Fire did not kill though. It was the infection that got the flamed, not the fire that brought them down.

His chest ached. He had not felt such pain in such a long time. Even during the recent Titan war, he had not felt such pain. Not even when they tore down his statues and replaced them with modern buildings did he feel pain. He felt rage, yes. Yes indeed did he feel rage and boy did that one overweight Greek with greasy hair and the ulcer in his stomach feel it as well.

Then, suddenly, the pain dulled. It dulled and was replaced by a warming feeling, spreading all over his body and he knew something was wrong. He felt so...light. So...happy? He hasn't been happy in years. He hasn't been happy since Pac-Man came out and that was all the way back in the eighties!

This feeling was wrong.

This feeling was not meant to be felt by a god.

They were not meant to be happy nor were they meant to feel warmth. Most were meant to be cold; showing that they were the ones in control. The feeling of warmth was often lost on gods.

That's when he knew. Dionysus knew.

He was fading.

Blankly, Chiron stared down on him. He had no idea what he was to do in this situation. He had watched heroes die and had sat by their sides. But a God? Only a few Gods have ever left the Earth; to go where, no one knew and he had a feeling wherever the Gods went was not a place worth knowing.

Dionysus stared at the other, but did not say anything. The centaur was attempting to shake him out of his feeling, but he's far too in. He's far too lost. It'll never work.

There was a roar in his ears. Over the roar, he can barely hear his friend speak. Is Chiron even his friend? Is he? Even Dionysus doesn't know. He's never been one for 'friends', more like associates who could drive him home in the modern century as alcohol could seriously impair Godly powers and his ability to drive those metal horse things. But he cannot say that the time he has spent with Chiron has been an unpleasant one.

"Mr. D...! Dionysus, you need to hang on!" He could barely hear anything, but he heard that. The faintest of smiles touched his lips.

"It's been a pleasant life...Chiron."

And much like Hestia, Dionysus faded as well; taking the world's alcohol with him.

And as the God of Wine and Party, he went out with a drink in hand.

The demigods mourned while the world stayed ignorant. The only ones that really noticed was Alcoholics Anonymous, but even that was not enough.

**.**

**6. **_Even if you're about to lose courage _

**.**

Percy found himself at the Bay near the camp. He didn't know why he had come here. It was too...close to home some might say, considering the fact that his father was the God of the Sea. But where could he go? The camp was literally in chaos. Mr. D had passed on sometime yesterday, drinking an expensive bottle of Vodka and had 'faded' easily. The Camp took it hard.

It was cold here. He could see his breath in the air in front of him. Winter still had its grip on the world.

Mr. D may have been an asshole but he knew how to keep everyone pretty much stabilised. Dionysus had little care for the children at the camp, but he knew as well as anyone that the camp could not disappear, lest the Gods suffer for it. But without him, there was no strong hand keeping control over the children. He may have been the biggest jerkwad to ever have lived, but it was a known fact that the camp did depend on him. Without him, the camp crumbled like a poorly built house of cards.

The child of Mr. D had...lost it. Pollux, was his name? He had lost it. The death of his brother and then the 'death' of his godly parent? What more could one man take? He was only a mortal; a so called pawn of the Gods. He could only take so much. Now, his brother and his father were 'dead' and now his sanity was taking a nosedive towards madness. After all, he was only a demigod in a world full of unseen monsters and he could only do so much. His uncontrolled sobbing that was a cross between the eerie cries of a banshee and the anguishing screams of a woman in labour could be heard all throughout the camp, even into the wee hours of the morning. No one could get him to shut up nor could anyone find out what he was crying about. Whether it be for his late 'father', his brother or for the simple fact that he really was the only one left.

So grabbing his bag, Percy snuck his way out of camp with a satchel full of unopened beer and an umbrella.

He sat on the shores, leaning back into the sand and sighed. Things were _not _going his way at all. This was turning out to be a horrible, horrible end to them all. And here he thought that after the titan war he was going to have an essay life but that appears not to be the case.

The hero took the beer and was about to pop it open when he felt the waves of the ocean begin to claw at his leg. The water was cold, Percy noted with a frown and realised that his father has been watching him. Odd bugger his father could be sometime and he should know as well as Percy does that he was in 'mourning'. He had done so _much _for the Gods. Damn it all that that he was only a minor. He may have been under the age, but even he needed a good beer every once and awhile and he wasn't going to let his cock-block of a father interrupt that. With a frown and a grunt, he kicked away the ocean water and glared out to sea.

"I'm in _mourning_. Can't I have a happy hour? I saved the world, saved the Gods from the Titans, saved the demigods and watched a damn good man die! Now I'm finding out that Hestia's gone and that Dionysus is dead!" The teenager took a bitter sip of beer and immediately blanched. "And the bastard took the alcohol with him!"

The ocean seemed to sway slightly as if agreeing with Percy and pulled away from the boy. Poseidon knew that Percy needed to be alone. The ocean did not make a grab for him again.

Percy dug a little hole in the sand and dumped the contents of the nasty beer into it. When the can was empty, he covered the little hole up the best he could and then set the can back in his bag with the rest of the disgusting alcohol. He looked out to the sea. The sun was setting now and it cast a orangey and reddish-pink glow over everything. It was going to get dark soon and it was probably a good idea to get back to camp before the harpies decided to feast upon him like a late night snack.

But he didn't want to go back to camp.

It just didn't feel the _same_.

It was still the same camp. It still had the themed-cabins. It still had the big house. It still had the campers. It still had the battlefields and the dark forest filled with monsters. It was still Camp Half-Blood with its un-fancy latrines and the Golden Fleece that helped protect its borders. It was to him – like Hogwarts had been to Harry Potter – a second _home. _

His friends were there. He had his beautiful girlfriend Annabeth. He had Nico. He had Grover. He had Chiron, Will, and even Clarisse. They were his friends. He had risked his life for them as they had risked their life for him. But even they could not make Camp Half-Blood the same as it had been before the war.

Percy realised someone was behind him and that they were attempting to sneak up on him. He didn't bother turning around to scold them for being a failure of a ninja and instead lifted his head to the sky.

"Hey Hermes."

The person stopped for moment before chuckling and continuing towards him. The God sat down next to Percy and leaned back on his palms. "Hey kid. Life treating you well?"

Percy turned to look at the King of thieves before halting and looking the man over. He looked sickly; with his skin a pale grey and his eyes lacking that normal spark of curiosity. He looked forlorn, aged and almost...human.

Even Dionysus hadn't even looked like this when he had made his exit. Percy felt a pang in his heart. What did this mean? Were they dying faster?

"So I heard D's dead."

So calm, so tranquil. As if the death of the old drunk had been nothing to him. It probably was nothing. He had heard the stories that went around the camp-fire. The Gods really didn't have 'feelings' of platonic and/or of family-love for one another. They all hated one another was the rumours and that they could not get over the past things that have been done. Even the deaths within the Olympic Twelve could not get them to bond together.

"He died the other day."

"I think the term is 'faded'. Did he go out drinking?"

"Ever since Hestia...faded, he's been drinking. So yes. He went out drinking. That's what Chiron said of course."

Hermes chuckled dryly. "I had a feeling he'd go out that way."

"You don't sound too...sad."

Hermes did not answer and looked to the sky. It was stained with dark blues and blackish purple as the dusk had started to settle. Night was approaching and the temperature was dropping. A few moments of awkward time had passed by until Hermes decided to answer.

"How should I act?"

Percy pursed his lips. "You're asking me? I didn't even _like _Mr. D. but for some reason I still feel bad for him. What's your excuse?"

He didn't answer again and Percy found himself quietly tiring of the awkward silence that was starting to beat away at his eardrums. It was already awkward enough with the silence adding to it. Why was Hermes here anyway? Didn't he have Godly things to do? Percy frowned and suddenly shoved the God sideways.

Hermes flung one hand out to grab at Percy's arm-sleeve to stop him from himself from falling over. A look of shock over took his grey face and he looked at the demigod as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"Did you just _shove _me?"

"Yeah and I'll do it again if you don't answer my questions."

"Who says I have to? You forget that I'm at least some twenty-five hundred years your senior bro. And a God."

"Don't _bro _me dude. I'm just wondering what is wrong with all of you."

"...I don't know myself." Whatever life that had been restored to Hermes' face seemed to fade as he once more realised the severity of his situation. "We think we're dying. We think that since we are all long past our prime, the fates have decided to cut our golden strings."

"Golden strings?"

"Oh yeah," Hermes looked to Percy with a slight smile. "I forgot your knowledge of Greek myth is mediocre."

"Hey!"

"Be happy that it isn't as bad as Disney's. _No _one's could _ever _be as bad as Disney." He shook his head with a frown. "Yes. The golden strings are basically what make up our life spans. The golden strings are gold because we are immortal and will live forever. Therefore, _indestructible._ The strings are our life span and they tell our life stories. What has already happened, what will happen, and it leaves room for things that unexpectedly occur. Humans have them too. Every one has them. And when the fates decide to cut them, then the person who that string represents dies. The string is literally as one could say the embodiment of the soul."

"The Greeks had a lot to do with the Fate Vs. Freewill idea didn't they?"

"A lot more than one would think. It's stunning really. That the Ancient Greeks were fine with knowing that three old monsters controlled what would occur in their life spans. Nowadays, their descendants decline that such a thing happen and debate the Fate Vs. Freewill idea when they aren't sleeping and laying about and harassing the Turks. But onto the point now is that the Fates have lovingly decided that we're no longer needed–" He reached across Percy to grab a beer but was intercepted by Percy telling him that he definitely didn't want it. "–and voilà. We're all fading. The Fates think that we're not needed and that there is no need to have Gods any more. No one believes in us any more, just our insane amount of children. But that's it. The amount of pagans, wiccans and Helenes doesn't even help us. The Fates want us gone and if that's the will of the Fates then I'm afraid that is how it will stay. And what do you mean I don't want the beer? It's a beer!"

The Demigod made a face. "When Mr. D. died, he took all the alcohol with him."

"That _bastard_."

"Yes, but haven't you all tried contacting the fates? Don't you have control over them? Aren't you _Gods_?"

"We may be Gods Percy, but we aren't perfect. Sometimes I gotta admit when I'm hungover and sacrifising my dinner to the porcelain goddess is that the only things separates the Gods from the humans is our immortality. We can regrow bones, take a stab to the femoral artery, live through the loss of a kidney and live forever, but when it gets down to the nitty-gritty, we're selfish, vile creatures that are often vain and can't help but fall in love with another's beauty. Sometimes we are human and sometimes we are monsters. I think it really all comes down on which day of the week it is. But...I can I admit something to you?"

"...You aren't going to admit your undying love for me are you?"

"What? No!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I think I'm pretty sure, but I have to admit...If we were in a different situation and there wasn't the fact that you're just about the same age as...Luke, I'd have to say that I would sleep with you. But we're not in a different situation. So yeah...I think this sudden fading the Gods is dealing with goes back more than the lack of belief the people have for us."

Percy totally ignored the blatant prospect of a come-on."You think?"

"Yeah. Me and Apollo were thinking about it–"

"Apollo can _think_?"

Hermes gave a snort and laughed loudly. "I was surprised myself! Well, anyway, we think it has to do with Greece itself. Our roots. We think our fading has to do with the fact that...well...Greece is sinking."

That confused Percy slightly. Greece was sinking? He had always known that Greece always jutted out into the sea but wasn't it mostly mountainous? Or was that Korea? He shook his head and looked to Hermes for an answer.

"According to scientists, Greece has been sinking for years. It's been sinking into the Ocean for years. Much like Venice as well. They're too near the water and they say in a few centuries, possibly, that Greece could be underwater completely."

"H...how?"

"I don't know." The look in Hermes' eyes looked slightly dead. "I don't know and I wish I did. I'm afraid that I'm going to be gone before I can get an answer."

"I'm sorry."

"I am too. I really wish I had gone with Apollo to help him complete his list of stuff that he wanted to do before he went list. It's pretty massive too."

"Say..." Percy wondered, getting ready to answer a question that had been plaguing him for awhile. "What happened to most of the minor gods? Like Hecate and Circe?"

Hermes' eyes went sad again and he looked back out to sea. It was completely dark now and small black clouds loomed overhead. "There's not as many as there used to be. Some haven't been affected, others went as soon as the strings had been snapped. Triton's gone, Hecate spent days trying to reverse everything before going, Circe disappeared, Morpheus fell asleep and never woke up and...Calypso's gone too. They found her island empty. It's only been two weeks and a half and so many are already gone. It's...It's sad really."

"You really never did explain why you found yourself not grieving Dionysus' death."

"I did answer. I told you that I didn't need to."

Percy raised a brow.

"...Fine. You know why I'm not mourning? Because Dionysus wouldn't want us to because he knows that there would be no reason to cry over his passing. And he knew that he probably wouldn't cry over any of us either. He probably knew that when he went, he'd be taking the booze with him too. The troll."

"I have another. Why are you here?"

"Can't I visit an old friend?"

"Last time I attempted a visit, you threatened to smite me."

"I was grieving. Can't a man grieve?"

"..." That wasn't worth an answer.

"Anyway, I'm here because I wanted to give you something."

"...What is it."

Percy had all right to be wary. He had spent some time living with some of the Hermes' children and he had learnt very quickly that they were very fond of giving 'gifts'. These gifts often involved practical jokes.

"Come on Percy. Don't trust me?"

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I've lived with yours kids remember?"

"...Well, you got me there I guess. But I really mean no harm with what I'm giving you. You were my best bet and they really liked you."

"Well all right...Wait, _they?_"

The God had already straightened his legs out and had pulled his messenger bag onto his lap. It looked rather ancient and looked weather beaten. On the cover was an assortment of pins from all over, but one stood out the most.

"Is that a _Grateful Dead _pin?"

Hermes, in amidst of leaning over the bag to unbuckle it, looked down and spotted the concert pin. "Oh yeah! That it is. _Man_, that was a great year..."

"Do I even want to know?"

"...Probably not!...Yeah, definitely not."

Shaking his head, Hermes unbuckled the bag and pulled the flap back. He dug around in the inside for a moment before unzipping a hidden inside flap and pulling out a older model of cell-phone and handing it to Percy. "There we go!"

"...A cell-phone?"

"Not just _any _cell-phone!"

There was a hiss and Percy felt something start to slither around his wrist. Locked in a moment of fear for a second or two, Percy had begun to think that this was Hermes' revenge for helping kill his son. Then he looked down at his wrist and saw the entwined snakes of Martha and George wrapped around his wrist.

_Hello Percy!_

_ Where are my rats?_

Percy looked at Hermes as if the man was insane. The King of Thieves and only grinned. "They're your problem now seeing as I'm gonna be gone soon and I can't bear to think that they'll be all alone in the world without me!"

"I can't have them!"

"Why not?"

"It's not mine to have!"

"What, my caduceus?"

"_Obviously_."

"_Pffft_. No one is going to care. I'm going to be gone soon and what will happen to them? I have no idea and I have to leave them with someone."

"What if I get caught with it?"

_It? _Martha asked.

_ Way to hurt our feelings Percy_. George pouted.

"It'll be fine."

"But what if Apollo find me with it?"

"Then he'll comment that he has such great taste in gifts."

"But–"

"Really, don't worry. Every surviving God is giving up their symbol to a demigod. Zeus just told us to. I don't really know why, but I just want along with it. I've been around for nearly three millennia and I haven't gotten smited yet and I'm not about to start now. Not with the end so close."

Percy looked to Hermes with his grey pallor and sad eyes. It seemed like the spark that Percy had noticed upon first meeting the man was completely gone now. He seemed even more vulnerable than around Luke's death. "But why not one of your kids?"

Hermes winced. "I don't really know any of them that well."

"All right, but say...You said that each of the Gods are giving demigods something. Why isn't my dad here instead of you?"

"Because he doesn't love you." Hermes said with a serious look and broke into a small fit of laughter at Percy's look. "Actually–"

The God was cut off when a large wave came up and crashed over him and Percy. Percy didn't get soaked of course, but Hermes did and was blown back by the salty wave. When the wave pulled back, Hermes spluttered almost violently to get the taste of salt out of his mouth.

"You have no sense of humour!" He yelled to the ocean before turning to Percy. "Why aren't you wet – Oh yeah, son of Poseidon. But the reason your dad isn't here is because the remaining Gods had a bitchfit over which one of them could give you their item. I won of course. So Poseidon is giving his trident to your brother, Tyson was it?, instead. But trust me, had I not gotten you instead, he would have given you his trident."

"Why did you pick me?"

"Because I actually like you kid and George and Martha probably would have eaten anyone other than you."

"You know that really doesn't help any–"

"...Well don't worry Percy. Besides..." his voice dropped a tone and he stared at Percy with a crazed grin. "_I know where you live._"

Then Hermes shoved Percy over sideways and set him sprawling into the sand before disappearing.

* * *

><p>"Did you do it?"<p>

"Yes father. He has the caduceus."

"Good."

"Do we have to do this?"

"Yes Hermes. We don't know what will happen to all them if we go. It is best to save the strongest."

"Of course..."

It felt wrong, Hermes noticed with a grimace. He was damning Percy and the boy hadn't even gotten to really live his life yet. He was damning Percy to a life that would consume all his time and he was damning the boy to a life that was full of hardship and loneliness.

Percy had to pay for their selfishness. He had to pay for their paranoia and failure at being unable to keep the world in believing them.

Percy was damned now. There was no going back now. Either Percy would accept the Godhood that he was leaving behind or join him in the realm of nothingness that he would certainly be ascending to when he went.

Hermes left the Throne Room, feeling even worse than before.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**7. **_I wonder if you are listening _

**.**

Weeks passed and it was soon February. Some wondered why Percy hadn't gone to school this year. He had a good reason. He had stayed the year to make sure that the Gods had stayed true with their promise. Annabeth had stayed too, even though she got letters from her dad every once in while telling her to return back to California because he missed her.

Annabeth stayed though and Percy felt happy for that.

But lately, ever since his meeting with Hermes, Annabeth had been acting strangely. She talked strangely, she acted strangely, she looked strange. There were certain moments of the day where Percy felt like he was dating a complete stranger.

"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day." Annabeth said offhandedly.

"Yeah, it is. Do you want to do anything for it?"

Annabeth sighed and sat up. "Percy, I'm breaking up with you."

"...What?"

_Oooh tough break boss!_

_Don't be mean George!_

_I'm not being mean! _

_Yes, you are._

_No I'm not!_

_Yes you are!_

_No I'm not – _

"Shhh. Shut-up you two!" Percy whispered violently.

"Did you just tell me to _shut-up_?"

_Oh shit_.

"No. It's Martha and George–"

"_Who_?"

Percy groaned. "I'm not supposed to be _telling _anyone–"

"Fine, then I'm leaving–"

"No, wait! Fine, I'll tell you, but swear _not _to tell anyone..."

"Really Percy. Do you take me to be the type of person to go around telling secrets?"

"Fine...Fine..."

Percy pulled out the cell-phone and handed it to Annabeth. She looked at the phone and then looked at the demigod. "...You're kidding me right?"

"Nope. George? Martha?"

Suddenly, the two snakes appeared and started to curl up Annabeth's wrist. They were still small and not connected at the moment, but Annabeth could tell what they were.

"Are these–"

"Yep."

"And you have them why–"

"Hermes gave them to me."

"And he _let _you-"

"Keep them? Yes. Apparently the Gods– well, I don't think I can tell you."

Annabeth looked to the snakes curling around his wrist and then looked to Percy. "I know Percy. My mom visited me a week ago. She gave me her Aegis."

"Her what?"

"Her shield. The one made by Hephaestus. She gave it to me. And I'm guessing this is Hermes' Caduceus?"

"Apparently. I haven't found how to turn it into a staff yet and the snakes aren't telling. They make great conversation though. There was this one with the waitress and her dirty mon–"

"_Don't_."

There was some silence between the two before Annabeth sighed and smiled slightly. "I'm sorry Percy, but it isn't working out."

"No, it isn't is it?" He kicked a pebble at his feet. "It was nice while it lasted."

"Yeah, it was." Annabeth handed over the cell-phone and with some difficulty gave back the snakes as well. "Well, I gotta go. My siblings need my help to clean out the cabin. Good-bye...Percy."

Annabeth began to walk away before she stopped himself and ran back to Percy. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, a sign of that there were no hard feelings and it was all the best, before rushing off.

"Oh poor little Percy!" A voice suddenly exclaimed, thick with emotion. "I guess true love's dove wings did not get to spread and begin a flight of peril and daunting tasks for you and your beloved. Shame this is indeed, as it seems that you and that Annabeth were rather cute while you lasted. But oh woe, oh woe, it was beyond my control and things had to spiral as they did! Oh well, I assume it had to be so as we all know that a son of Poseidon and daughter of Athena would never last!"

_...What_?

The hero in question whipped around and looked for the voice. Where was it? Where could she be? Oh he had a feeling that woman would have showed up eventually. But did it have to be _right _after it had happened? Couldn't a man be allowed to grieve his own personal losses every once in awhile? The teenager looked around and could not spot the woman. The voice giggled at his confusion and whispered. "_Up here!"_

Percy looked up and spotted her. The woman did not like much like her other relatives. She actually looked slightly healthy and seemed to still be radiating with life. A fleeting idea came to him. It was ridiculous, but probably true. Aphrodite was probably being kept alive by the power of love.

That or her vanity. Either was a possibility.

She was in a tree though.

Why in Hades was Aphrodite in a tree? On a second thought, Percy didn't want to know.

"Oh poor, poor Percy..."

"Why are you here Aphrodite?"

"Can't I visit family?"

"If you're here to comment on my failure of a love-life then 'no'."

Aphrodite gave a slight laugh and jumped down from her tree with the grace of a lion. She strode forward, almost as if walking on air and looked at Percy before smiling grimly. "Oh, isn't that pleasant surprise? So I see Hermes gave you his little snakes? I'd watch out for them. They're as sneaky as their last owner. Even if they like you. The acorn does not fall far from the tree!"

Percy frowned and repeated his question. "Why are you here?"

"Must you keep asking me that?" Aphrodite snapped. "I am here to visit you of course my benevolent Perseus–"

"Bullshit." Percy couldn't tell where the sudden courage to tell that to a _goddess _but it felt damn good to saying it. Because it was true. It was bullshit. They both knew it. Aphrodite wasn't just the goddess of love – she was also the goddess of bullshit. The damn bleeding _Queen _of all that was hyperboles and stretching the truth.

"Excuse me?" The tone was questioning, and slightly bright with an amused moderation.

"I said that's not the reason you're here." Blatant lie.

A moment of silence occurred and Aphrodite soon let loose a sigh. "Oh, chook! It seems that I've been caught from the very moment. I bring shame to my natural Greek acting routes!" The goddess waved a hand and gave a slight twirl. "I just wanted to see it was true. And true it had been! True, oh true indeed!"

"That all?"

"That, and I got to see a show. Such a great show indeed! Oh Percy, I never knew that Annabeth had it within her! And how Hera proclaims of weakness within the girl is obviously such a lie I have never seen before! And you Percy, magnificent! You truly took it like a man!" _Bent over and head between the knees_! Was left unspoken.

"What about it being '_true_' though? Dionysus has been dead for–"

"Oh _cheri_. This be not about that drunk of an asswipe, Mr. D. This is a tale about you my dear. Hermes had chosen you to be the one that he hands over his Caduceus. I had just wanted to see if his tale was true and true it had been indeed. Hermes, oh how cunning of him to do that right in front of your very own father, knowing that your father was going to hand over the sea to you! Of course, this means I must now pay the bastard a few of my drachmas."

The air had gotten colder around them and Percy was slightly aware of the raised bumps on his arms. But he could care less about those and the fact that he should probably be wearing more than shorts and a wife beater and found himself mulling over Aphrodite's words,. Hadn't Hermes mentioned that his father had already decided to give the sea to Tyson and that Hermes had won some bet? Hermes had said that there was no other choice – then it hit Percy.

_Son of fucking bitch, that whore _**lied**_to me._

A look of realisation must have dawned on Percy's face because Aphrodite laughed loudly with her shrilly voice and way of hers and pointed childishly at him. "Oh my, oh my. He _lied _to you then? Well, not that I expect any less from the King of Thieves and the Duke of Lies of course. So he tricked you then? Gave a twist and pulled the wool over your eyes? Shame on him, that dastardly old coward! And to think, he did it in front of your father as well!"

"That son of _bitch_."

"Well, his mother was very nice actually–"

"Don't care." He really didn't care. "I'm pissed though. He _lied _to me. You can kick me, you can lick me, you can use me, you can bruise me, but you definitely can not LIE to me. Son of a bitch, the discovery of this has _killed _my good mood."

"Excellent!"

"Ex..._Excellent_! What the fuck do you mean by '_excellent_'?" His mother had taught him not to swear, especially in front of a lady. Even if this lady was an evil bitch who most likely got off with seeing him in dire pain. And was a goddess; let that not be forgotten.

"I like seeing you in pain!"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Percy frowned and begin to construct a witty retort lest the awkward silence descend on the two once again but became distracted by the slithering on his wrist. He looked down to see the snakes Martha and George slithering on his wrist. For a moment, he began to wonder why the snaked of a Greek god were named such as that: Martha and George. Weren't those American names? Or at least weren't they at least western European? Why did they not have Greek names, as they should? Maybe they had at one time and had changed with the times. What is–

_Wait a minute._

"You've known haven't you?" He demanded of the snakes, who continued to slither around his wrist rather uncomfortably

_We cannot tell you that._

"Call him."

_Call who_? Martha asked.

_Are we playing a knock-knock joke? _

"Hermes."

_Who_? George questioned.

_Is that a type of shoe? _

"Martha, George. I will make you _both _into a sword sheath if you don't shut your little snakey mouths and _call him._"

_But, we–_

"_Call _**him**_**."**_

_Herp. All right_.

Suddenly, the snakes combined into together forms and wrapped tight around his wrist. It hurt horribly, as the circulation in his wrist began to cut off but before he knew it – Hermes had arrived.

And of course, he was looking worse for wear.

"Whoa." Hermes stumbled slightly, almost unable to regain his balance. "Guys, _warn _me before you do that. At least I'm decent _this _time–Oh hey Percy."

"Don't _hey _me."

"Who peed in your cheerios bro?"

Aphrodite gave a tittering laugh and brought Hermes' attention to her. "Oh, drunk are you? From what I heard the alcohol has truly lost it's taste since Dionysus flew the coop!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit my lovely Percy of course! I wanted to see if the rumours were true! And the rumours were true indeed. Oh Hermes, you devilish _fiend_."

Hermes opened his mouth to speak but then shut it and turned to Percy, as if he just realised that the boy was there and that he just wasn't a figment of his imagination. It took only a few seconds. "Oh fuck me. She told you!"

"It wasn't hard to figure out." Percy answered coolly.

"Well, you exactly weren't supposed to _find _out like this-"

"What. I wasn't supposed to find out that you basically fucked me over?"

The Duke of Lies twisted his hands a bit nervously. "Well...yes. But I did it for a good reason!" It was odd to see Hermes so agitated; to see _any _God as agitated as Hermes was. "A very a good reason! Isn't that right, Aphro- Aphrodite?"

Percy turned his head and noticed that Aphrodite had disappeared. He felt a moment of disdain for the goddess of love wash over him before he forced it to disappear. Percy, fortunately, had better things to think about than how much Aphrodite pissed him off. Like kicking Hermes' ass for instance.

Hermes laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. His laugh was the laugh of a coward about to flee. "Well, it is a good reason though! But I can't tell y–"

"And why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter to you." Cold, harsh – a difference from the awkward coward a minute ago.

For a moment, only a moment, Percy had thought he had invoked that infamous Godly rage within Hermes but the God's facial expressions remained forlorn and quiet. He was breaking.

"Yes it does. You gave me this damn thing!"

"You act like it's a bad thing!"

"Well I have no idea what I'm even going to do with it!" Percy gave the arm with snakes wrapped around it a furious flail. "And they don't exactly go away when I want them to!"

"That's because the trans- Never mind."

"Trans? What about a trans?" Percy felt a wave of utter confusion roll over him and he was wondering what his part was in all of this. The hero felt like that the part was not going to be an awesome one. The wave of confusion grew larger. What did Hermes mean by Trans? What about a trans? Transition? Transystem? Transexual? Were they going to turn him into a girl? Was he going to be turned into a bride for some lonely god?

Percy's brain kicked into over drive. He didn't want to have some God's children!

"Hermes, tell _me _what's going on!"

"I can't! You're not even supposed to know about it in the first place!"

"What's this all about a bet? Why the hell do I have your Caduceus? Take it back!"

"No, it's yours!"

"You can have it!"

"I don't want them!"

"Finders Keepers, Loosers Weepers!"

That last statement from Hermes took Percy for surprise. Such a childish thing from such an old man. Was this really Hermes or were those mushrooms Grover found last night originally what Percy thought them to be?  
>"They're yours, Hermes." Percy said softly. "I'm not the Messenger of the Gods. The Caduceus belongs to you."<p>

"No Percy." Hermes answered quietly. "They're not mine. Not mine anymore at least. I would keep them if I could but...I'm sorry, Percy."

Before Percy could react, he was pushed backwards by some powerful gale of wind and slammed into the trunk of a tree. The sudden contact with the tree shot a a surge of pain through his spine and it took a moment to recover from the shock but he had realised it was too late. When Percy lifted his head and the black spots danced across his eyes, Hermes was gone and hadn't even taken his damn snakes with him.

**.**

**8.**_ I wonder if you are listening _

**.**

The next day the Percy is awoken from his sleep by terrible wailing. For a moment, he had thought the sirens had invaded camp. But when he groggily stumbled out of his cabin in his ducky boxers, wife beater and Riptide posed in his hands like a baseball, he took slow notice that it was the entire Aphrodite cabin that had burst into tears and sounded like a disorganised chorus of wailing.

Percy wondered what the fuck had happened in such a short time – did they lose all their designer clothes in some dryer fire or something?

Then he saw the shroud. The near same shroud they had burned when Hestia and Dionysus had gone.

_Oh...__**shit**_**.**

What the hell! He just saw her yesterday and she already bit the dust? Way to go, Aphrodite Percy thought glumly and slumped his shoulders. The realisation hit him. So Aphrodite was gone?

So what, was there no longer any love in the world? No lust, no love, no hormones? He didn't feel any different and it wasn't like he had any morning wood today either. So it was just...that? When the gods went they just went 'poof!' and were gone?

Hestia took the homeliness out of home, Dionysus took the alcohol and Aphrodite took the love and lust. If his father went, would the roar of the mighty ocean go flat like the deadline of a dying heart? If Apollo went would the sun burn out?

Percy ran his hand through his hair, suddenly overtook by a wave of odd emotions. Was he...Was he actually feeling sympathy? Was he actually feeling overly _sad _for the death of Aphrodite? It was almost odd. Almost...Maybe he really did feel bad for the goddess?

Well she did try to ruin his life and had nearly succeeded several times over so he couldn't be really sure.

Percy turned back around and went back into his cabin.

The place he immediately went for was the fountain. This was of course after he found his bag of drachmas under his bunk and pulled out a few. After incanting the call of Iris, he flipped his coin into the water and asked for his father. However, his father did not pick up. In fact, no one picked up at all. A moment of paranoia hit him and he wondered if his father was gone too and what that meant for him and Tyson and _oh my god was he a half orphan ag–_

"_I'm sorry, your call cannot be placed at this time. Please insert another drachma and try again."_

Furrowing his brow, Percy repeated the incantation and flipped the coin into the water. It sunk in and he waited. Moments later, he was given the same message as before and for a minute, he thought that it sounded slightly angry.

One more time he repeated the incantation, flipped the coin into the water and asked for his father. Once more, he was given the same message and it did sound angry. Percy did not bother trying again because he knew that his father at this moment was unreachable and definitely did not want to talk to him at all.

"Well it wasn't like I wanted to talk to you either!"

Hours later though, when the sobs and the cries and the smoke coming from Aphrodite's cabin finally lulled him off into a dream world full of darkened nightmares, Percy knew that he had been lying when he had said that.

More than anything, he wanted to see his father one last time before he died.

However Percy had a odd feeling that he wouldn't know who would be going first.

**.**

**9. **_It's all right, since I'm here_.

**.**

Three days later, Percy is not awoken by the overdone and drawn out sobs and cries from the children of Aphrodite (whom he was done mourning for and wish her children would just _shut up_) even though it has been the current thing that has been penetrating the solid wall of his dreams. Instead he was woken up by someone blowing wind into his ear. The sudden stream of air into his left lobe woke up him and sent him into a frenzy. However, Percy found that his entire body was just about pinned under a large weight.

A pair of golden eyes gleamed at him through the darkness.

And Percy screamed.

"Shhh! Shhh!" A hand immediately clamped over his mouth. "Man, do you want to wake the whole camp or something with your dulcet tones? I know that I wouldn't mind the fans coming to see the glorious me, but I'm not even supposed to be here!"

It took a moment for the brain to recognise the voice and green eyes narrowed.

"Oh you recognise me! Hi Percy!" Apollo cheerfully removed his hand from Percy's mouth and waved at him. Percy realised it was Apollo who was immobilising his lower half.

Bastard.

"Apollo?"

"The one and only!"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hades, Percy, Hades. And besides, can't I come to visit my favourite Olympian hero?"

"...No." And with that, Percy shoved Apollo's face away from his and moved his body out from underneath the others.

"You're so mean to me!"

"No. You're just a moron."

Percy flicked on the lamp on his bedside table and looked at his watch. Fucking hell, six something in the morning? The sun wasn't even up yet – ...Oh wait. Apollo was still here. That would mean Apollo had yet to start his duties for the day. He turned to yell at Apollo for slacking off (which really didn't surprise him) but was startled by his appearance now that he could now see in the dim light of the lamp.

Only his eyes remained that bright gold colour of his. Everything else seemed to have gone a stark grey with a tinge of yellow. His skin seemed alabaster in colour, his flaxen hair hung limply, dark circles were drawn underneath his eyes and his lips that were once full seemed slack and pale. And worst of all, Percy could _see _through him.

He didn't mean it psychologically. He still didn't understand the Gods at all and how they worked and thought.

Not metaphorically, he meant literally. He could see right _through _Apollo. They were dying, losing their humanity. They were losing their ability to stay human. He could see right through Apollo's pale alabaster skin that hung on him.

It was fucking _weird_.

"Uh...Apollo–"

"Yeeeeees?"

"I see through you."

"I know."

"...You do?"

"Well, you can't exactly _miss _this man." Apollo bent over curled his head towards his stomach. "It's kinda a pathetic that I can see through myself too. And nice taste in wallpaper. I wish I could get them to do my cabin _this _well!"

"...Thanks?"

"You're welcome! Well anyway, let's get to why I'm here in the first place. You, me, on a ride in the love of my life?"

"What car is it this week?"

"I've been feeling fifties lately. So it's an orange and white '55 Ford convertible. The stripe looks hilarious when you're off your rocker."

"Do they even make Ford Convertibles any more?"

"Probably not, with air conditioner and whatnot. Anyway, we're going on a ride!"

Apollo tugged Percy out of the cabin and Percy dug his heels into the ground. "I need pants first!"

"No you don't." Apollo stopped and gave Percy an odd look that looked half way in-between a look of scorn and extreme dislike. "Pants are a new world invention. I didn't have to start wearing them until the thirteen-hundreds! They're _so _constricting!"

"...That's wonderful. But I'm still going to put on pants."

Ten minutes later, Apollo and Percy were on their way to Apollo's car with Percy wearing pants and Apollo not looking happy about it. Apollo slid around the hood of the car and slid gracefully into the driver's seat. Percy moved into the passenger's seat in a less grandiose fashion.

"Now," Apollo said while slipping on his aviator glasses that reflected Percy's image in the glass, "I'm about to take you on the ride of your life. Any last words, baby?"

"Just start the damn car."

"_Fiiiiiiine."_

As they flew over the Hudson, Percy leans over the side of the Convertible. The Hero barely registered Apollo telling him calmly that if he's going to hurl, he should at least do it when there are people around and not just endless water below and that if he hurls into the Hudson his father would not be pleased. Percy closed his eyes. Apollo was saying something about puking. That, or he was commenting on how sexy he was. Sometimes the sentences ran together like the days in a long school year begin to do as summer slowly crawls back to him.

He dragged his fingers over the white stripe on the side of the Ford car and took slow note of how it starts straight at the headlights of the car and then suddenly twists downward at the rear-view windows of the car and then goes straight again for the rest of the car.

What was he doing here? Percy asked himself. He probably should be in mourning. For what, he didn't know any more. He could be mourning for the supposed lost souls of abortioned embryos. He could be mourning the loss of the only love in his life. He could be mourning for Dionysus-Aphrodite-Hestia-any other damned Greek God/Goddess who wanted a go at him and all he would reply with would be _Come at me bro. _He could mourn for the sudden raise in tax prices, or the rallying Indians in Western New York! He could mourn for the loss of lives lost in the war! He could mourn for the whole damn world!

For a moment, he realised that that was probably the most attention he's paid attention to on _anything_.

A sudden hissing takes place in his ear and he turns; almost surprised by the golden eyes that are staring into his.

"This is part where you confess your undying love for me you know."

Percy frowned. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Stop trying to make me seem in love with you."

"Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy."

"Because I'm _not_."

"Man, just because Aphrodite bit the dust doesn't mean everyone needs to give up on love as a whole!" The God made a heart shaped symbol with his long pale fingers. "Love is badass!"

"...Aren't you supposed to be driving?"

Apollo gestured to his knees, which were moving the steering wheel in place of his hands. "It takes serious skill to drive with your knees you know."

"You're a moron!"

"I prefer intelligently-gifted you know!"

"You're still a moron."

And the conversation ended with that.

The air was chilly up high in sky, Percy noted with a frown and slumped down in his seat and pulled out his phone. His phone was dying and he had a ridiculous amount of messages. Not because he ignored his phone of course _never_, it was just because most of the messages he got were short and he could read most of them in his Inbox so there was no reason to open it. He spent moments flipping the phone back and forth before slipping the phone back in his pocket and draping himself back over the side of the car.

Everything, everything seemed so _dead _for some reason. It was painful really, to take note of such things. Normally he was too busy with something else to really process it all. But lately, the world just lacked life. It was like the life out of everything had been sucked away. Almost as if things had begun to lose their will to live life.

Was it the gods? Was it their sudden disappearances that were spurring on the changes the world was undergoing?

Percy was a boy stuck in-between two worlds. He felt the excruciating pain of both. He felt the pain the immortals were feeling; to lose their immortality because of lack of faith and be ripped suddenly from the world. He felt the pain of a mortal, watching the world suddenly change before you and be able to do _nothing _to change it.

It was a twisted world they lived in. It was sick. It was nasty. It was Fate. Those fates, those three old women he saw knit those ridiculous socks some five years ago. _They _controlled everyone's fate didn't they? Twisted old broads they were. Definitely indeed. Those fates made everything go however they wanted.

And he hated them for it.

They caused Luke to die; they caused world disasters; they caused political uprisings, assassinations and destruction; they caused people unneeded to be born; they caused Luke to do what he did!

He hated them. There was no other feeling for it.

They were the true monsters of the world.

And he _hat–_

_ "_Greece is sinking." Apollo suddenly said.

Percy leaned up from where he was leaning over the side of the car and stared at Apollo with half-drawn eyes. "...What?"

"Greece is sinking."

"...Into debt?"

"No – Well yes, but it's not that. They're sinking into the ocean. Every year, Greece sinks closer and closer into the ocean and every year, it gets closer and closer to being swallowed up whole."

"Hermes has mentioned it before."

"Yeah, me and him have been talking about it lately actually. Well, we were but he's wholed himself up in his room. Probably your fault. What did you say to him? But anyway, we've theorised that it's why we're going as we are. Greece is going and so are we! No matter where the heart is, whether it be Brasil, America, England, Spain, France which was a _badass _country during our stay, Germany – our home will always be in Greece. Even if our monuments fall to the elements, our people forget our great deeds and their pasts and our statues crumbles under the hot Grecian sun, Greece _is _where the roots run deep. The Fates have just decided to...speed up the process."

The logic sounded so odd coming from an actual God. It was probably out of place because he was defending his own existence.

"Can't Poseidon _do _something?"

"This may sound odd but your father really doesn't 'control' the ocean. After all, it's the _ocean_. As disgusting as it tastes, it's still a beautiful thing and it is as it is: _un_controllable. It will take who it pleases and spare who it wants. We've all been around long enough to realise its that way with everything." He wasn't just talking about biospheres.

All was silent for some time again and they started coming back into New York. The Empire State building could be seen in the distance.

One question was bothering Percy. "Has this happened before?"

"Has what happened before? Have I had a beautiful boy in my car before? Yes. Have I had a beautiful boy in my car that has _resisted _my passes? No."

Percy scowled. "Not that! I mean...this disappearing thingy. Never? Has it never happened before?"

"Well...Twice. Second time I don't remember much, but I remember it faintly. It's like those dreams you get when you remember _dreaming _the damn thing but you wake up and barely remember what the fuck just happened! Anyway, all I remember that it was a dark period and that everyone smelled. I'm pretty sure it was just after the plague and Europe and Asia's population were pretty much just shot. So yeah, we were pretty close to going ourselves too. That was some dark shit going on for all of us. But when the Renaissance happened, we were all good again for some reason. Something...something happened and I just can't remember what."

"Your 'excellent' memory _failing _you, Apollo?"

"Please! I have the best memory out there!" The God scoffed with a bright smile but it soon fell along with the rest of Apollo's dulled features. "This has only happened twice before Percy and we barely remember both of them."

"What was the first one?"

Apollo's knuckles on the pristine white steering wheel tightened and immediately Percy knew that he had ventured into bad territory.

The air was thick with silence, as it always seemed to be lately. It was pathetic really. Percy kept managing to piss off all the gods lately with the wrong questions.

"It's all right. You don't have to–"

Apollo lifted a hand to silence Percy, but it was rather ineffective because Percy could see right through the appendage. "It's fine. It's...just one of those things all religious beings probably get angry about."

Only one thing really came to mind.

"Was it–"

"It could have been several things." The man answered. "I think we started to fade out when the Missionaries were attempting to destroy our temples and stop our ceremonies. All Gods, goddesses, beings, icons and religious figures take pride in the people that follow them, Percy. When suddenly a large population of people switch from you to someone else, you can't help but feel angry; feel abandoned. We tried everything you know. From floods, to earthquakes, to Dionysus poisoning the alcohol, Demeter destroying their crops, my sister's organisation of the deranged slaughtering of their livestock, to Hermes' thievery of their slaves and absolute refusal to tote the betrayers to the other side, and even Aphrodite's twisting of their love. They stayed with their 'God'. They stayed with him through everything even though our anger eventually somehow claimed their lives."

Percy had no words.

"Twisted, ain't it?" Apollo said with a laugh that generally scared Percy. His laugh reminded Percy of the bitter static only certain ears could hear. His laugh soon gave way to words filled with an emotion Percy had never seen before. "The rage we felt was inhuman. We _were _inhuman. We were the monsters the crusades of Christ had portrayed us out to be! Barbaric and inhumane, we slaughtered village after village that had been turned. Those who died at the hand of Christianity had been taken to Olympus personally. We had lost so many people and the people who had stayed fateful to us had been slaughtered and slaughtered again; their bodies stacked on top of one another to 'leave a message' to those who had yet to change. It was a message to us as well. Pure hatred was all we felt. Pure hatred is all we continue to feel and will continue to feel! What else is there really to feel any more! How would you feel if the people you had watched grow from an infant to an elder completely _abandon _you in favour of another who completely ignores you? It's _fascinating_ how long it took us to realise that we could not stay trapped in the past of our lost people. We had almost realised it too late you know. We had set the entire Balkan peninsula ablaze before we realised that it would be pointless to give in Christianity as well. As Gods and Goddesses, we had to set an example now didn't we? We couldn't suddenly just _disappear _because the lure of monotheism sounded far more entertaining than that of polytheism, am I right or am I right? Pah, I sound ridiculously bitter. I even swore that I wouldn't turn out like my sister and just look at me! I'm sprouting off words! It gives way to the illusion that makes me sound like I actually know shit!"

Even when he was mocking himself, the true voice of Apollo lay hidden in his voice. He sounded raged, bitter, angry and mad. Insanity had tinged his voice when he had talked and his words had moved Percy to an absolute stillness. Since his introduction to this demigod world, he had really not ever thought about his religion. Did he even have a religion? Was he considered a believer of the Ancient Greek faith? Apollo had told him something though in that sudden bout of madness. He had been told never to cross the gods in the face of religion.

Maybe that was a bit harsh and maybe Apollo was only speaking about the Past. That's what they had been on hadn't they? The past and all the times the Greek Gods and Goddesses have nearly disappeared.

"Tell me Perce, have you ever heard of this one singing source from Japan? The Vocaloids? No? Well, they're a electronic group of singing holographic images. Fascinating thing is that they create such beautiful songs. There's thing one song that really gets me. It's called Alice Human Sacrifice? Wanna hear it?"

The demigod was about to voice his disapproval but did not get a chance too as Apollo had begun belting out this song. And boy, had it been eerie. It was not the prospect of the evil idea that had cursed others into doing its evils that gave him the shivers, nor was it the mad green queen and her loathsome decaying corpse. It was not even the overall song that gave him the shivers. It was the blue alice. The only part about the blue Alice and his gruesome death.

"_The second Alice was a sweet and a humble man. He would always sing a song to his dear Wonderland. The many tones he sang they twisted and they swirled and thus he created an equally mad world. Such an Alice was a man of flower and of rose got shot down by a man who could not take his own woes. And there in the forest bloomed a flower blood red; once loved and enjoyed by all, is now left for dead._"

The cheerful man's voice took an darkening end. He turned to Percy, with darkened and chilled eyes that Percy thought for a moment that had flashed blue, and grinned. "Say Percy. Whatever do you think happened to that flower that bloomed red?"

"...It died?" That was the obvious answer wasn't it?

"It was a flower though that had bloomed from the life source of the world though. What's to say that that flower had survived after the man had died? The flower lived on while he withered?"

"I say that's bullshit."

The God laughed loudly and turned back to face the endless sky before him. "For some reason, I find our situation to be very much like that. But for some other reason, I also find that it is just a song that involves many gruesome murders and a decaying queen of a dystopia. The blue Alice and his destructive end. He makes one red rose bloom and admired by all, he withers!"

At that, the brief scowling image of Hera entered his mind. He shook away the image with a shutter and closed his eyes.

Percy was about to demand that Apollo just drop him off _now_ when the God spoke. His voice was soft and the tone tickled the edges of Percy's heart.

"But Perce, I think the fates are serious this time. Madness of not, loss of people or not, they're serious. We're just not meant to be here any-more."

"Everyone has a purpose."

Apollo smiled but it did not reach those eyes of his eyes. Said Golden eyes of his seemed to be dulling with every moment, compared to only minutes ago where they had been alive with the liquefied rage of the God of the Sun.  
>"That's true."<p>

"So just don't automatically throw yourselves out of the loop because you haven't found a way yet! There's always a way!"

"We have found a way."

Joy exploded in him. "You have? That's wonderful!"

"No...No it's not."

"...But what? What, are you guys killing small children or something?"

The look in Apollo's dull eyes told him that the God was serious. "Perce, it's not good. It...It only proves nothing. Only that we're going to give it all up."

Percy's look of excitement fell to confusion. "What? But..."

"Look Perce, I–"

Apollo stopped suddenly, and clutched blindly at his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. Then his image began to distort as a faulty projector would do so and faded out of sight.

And the world went dark.

Percy couldn't help but scream in terror. The convertible gave a lurch to the right and the car started to drop from the sky. With frazzled nerves, Percy threw himself painfully over the arm rest and attempted to right the car the best he could. But he couldn't. The steering wheel didn't really seem to want to move easily. He realised with a sinking feeling that the car was modified so it could only be driven by someone with the power of a God and someone who knew how to man a car with a lack of power-steering.

The car was falling rapidly now and the hero wondered how long how long it would to take to hit the ground. Probably not long as the sky didn't seem to be giving resistance beneath the car and the car weighed at least three tons and continued to drop through the sky like a cannon ball would from a tall height.

Most likely, he was going to die in this car; die in the eternal darkness. Sometimes in the moments such as that, he wished he had never gotten out of bed that morning.

Then, the light returned suddenly and Percy groaned as his eyes were assaulted with the light he had been momentarily stripped of. Apollo had begun to fade back into reality in a way very similar to the way he left. His body was distorted and flicked with every passing moment and he seemed even more see through. Eventually, he finally returned and Percy realised with a horrifying moment that he was just about in Apollo's lap.

But the God was too frazzled; too live-wired to even realise. The car continued dropping. It wasn't until Percy starting voicing his prayers to Zeus aloud was that Apollo snapped back into action. His head snapped back to attention, his pale hands righted the wheel Percy could hardly control and foot stomped **hard **on the brake; causing the car plummeting from a high height to stop suddenly in a mid-air with a slight bounce and Percy's face to smack into somewhere he would rather not recall.

It got the God's attention though.

"_Well! _Hello there! Have we met before?"

"I hate you. I hate you _so much_."

"Yeaaaaah. Sorry about that!"

"Where the fuck did you go?"

"No clue."

"No clu- _No clue_. What the hell man! You disappear and the whole fucking world just goes _dark_!"

"God of the **Sun **does imply that you know. But yeah, when I faded out I totally just like _saw _something briefly."

"And this was...?"

"It was Dionysus."

"...Really?"

"Fer fucking _sure_." The serious Apollo was gone; replaced by the rather ridiculous idiot and hipster one at that. "And he was flipping me off."

"...Sounds like D."

The God nodded and started up the car again and began driving again. Percy turns away for just a moment and he already knows that he's made a mistake. He heard Apollo gasping painfully as if he cannot do the simple action of just drawing breath and whipped around to see the God clutch at his chest again and Percy threw himself across the seats again. Once more, he does not make it and Apollo released his hands and feet from the steering wheel and pedals and the car plummets.

A stroke of luck hits them both and they do not far fall. They land in a conveniently placed large row of bushes _right _in front of the Empire State Building.

Apollo fought back his air-bag weakly and just manages to gasp out: "Go...Go to Olympus!" before he is overtaken by the white material.

After stabbing his air-bag with a conveniently there as well Riptide, Percy exited the car covered with a veil of confusion. He's taken on a ride through hell just to be told that he needed to walk through the doors of hell _too_? Wow, this day was turning out to just _suck_.

Percy made it through the doors of the building and found it mysteriously empty. The Hero was about to call for someone to come out when the snakes that he had forgotten about start to throw a small parade on his wrist. They're whispering stuff in a language he can not understand and cutting off the circulation of his poor wrist. They drag him toward the only open elevator on the floor and will the doors close. They slither up Percy's wrist and grow longer and longer until they eventually fall to the floor in a heap of scales and one another. In moments, they begin to hiss back in that ancient language of theirs and an ancient staff that possibly seemed to be made of great firewood appears. As they twisted themselves around it, Percy numbly realised that they were forming the great Caduceus.

Percy suddenly felt very unworthy to be gifted with such an object.

When it was finally completed, the hero numbly reached out for the ancient object and wrapped his fingers around the staff. He attempted to pass it from hand to hand but found that he cannot and that it was stuck to his hand.

He became too preoccupied with attempting to remove it from his fingers that he didn't realise that the elevator had begun to slide quickly and unsafely up the elevator shaft to the both dreaded and loved Floor 600. Eventually, the elevator came to a halt and Percy was able to regain his thoughts for only a moment before the door opened and he was dragged through the empty streets of Olympus.

Percy barely remembered seeing Olympus in such a state before. He remembered the war of course, as everyone does as well because such a thing as that does leave its mark and does not just fade from memory. But Olympus was dead. The great city of the Gods and the Goddesses that had been their ruling centre for over three millennia was dead. There was no life, no living, no spark of music that always wavered in the air. All was left was rotting and decaying buildings and memories lost in a sea of stone.

The caduceus that was locked firmly in his fingers dragged him through the streets and toward the only place he really knew in Olympus. It dragged him towards the only really still building still there. The palace of the Olympian Circle. He was dragged up steps that he is barely able to cross up before being tugged through doorway after doorway and up more steps and across thresholds before he is shoved into a room when the Caduceus finally flew from his grip. Percy is tried and helplessly falls to his knees; unaware of the room around him and thinking that he's going to smack Hermes into his non-existent next week.

It isn't until the boom of his father talking to him that he realised where he was.

"_Hello son_."

**.**

**10. **_I wonder if you are listening _

**.**

Oh _fuck_.

That was the first thought that registered in Percy's head when he came back to his rarely left senses.

"Watch your language kid!" Ares growled.

Oops. Guess he said that out loud. But at least Ares didn't look as scary now so that made him feel better. He could see straight through the God.

The remaining eight of the Olympian that were in the room were in human size. Hades had been invited to their little party as well and stood still and smiled that dark, oozing smile of his. For a moment, Percy had begun to wonder why the slimeball was here of all places but then he realised who Hades had clamped his claw-like on. With his father's hands on his shoulders, smile obviously drawn on, Nico D'Angelo looked at Percy from underneath his bangs.

The demigod realised his friends were all here too. Annabeth was sitting at the feet of her mother, Tyson was frolicking around their father in a manner where Percy once again did not want to associate being related to him, Grover was off to side and looked rather alone, Thalia was attempting to distance herself from her father and was failing, and Clarisse flipped him off from where she was sitting by her dad. There were five-six other children around. There were a few others. A homely brunette, an obvious hunter of Artemis, a shining blonde, a nerdy girl with dirt under her nails and a bulky boy who looks like he's never seen the sun.

They had to be throwing _some _kind of party right?

"Um...Hey da- Father."

Poseidon nodded and Tyson stopped frolicking. The young half-monster looked at his brother, words forming on his large lips before he thought better of it and just waved. Percy waved weakly back.

"What's going on?"

Clarisse was the first to sneer. "You mean you don't know _either_?"

"Shut it girl!"

"Bite me old man!"

"_What _did you say?"

"Quit it!" Hera snapped.

Percy scratched his head and looked to Grover. "You know anything?"

"I haven't been told anything since Mr. D...You know."

It was Zeus was spoke next. "None of you have been told anything. And you were not supposed to be told anything, as that was the agreement made by all."

Immediately the survivors of the great war started to protest and the Lord of the Sky's patience was lost. "Enough! I have already had enough trouble today with non-wanted people wandering around in my territory as it is!"

"Apollo kidnapped me!" Percy felt the need to protect himself.

"My brother really needs to get a life!" Artemis groaned and the hunter and Thalia patted her back in condolence.

The Lord of Sky growled again. "Enough! We've had enough distractions as it is! We need to get this done now before it is too late!"

More questions were raised and it was Hermes who spoke, trying hard not to make eye contact with Percy who at this point was burning holes into the side of his face. "Children...I really don't how to explain this – I guess what I'm trying to say...Does it really mat – Father, do I really have to do this!"

"You nearly blew it last time, Hermes." Zeus answered.

"So yes." Hades answered, speaking the unsaid words.

Hermes groaned and slumped himself before righting his posture and speaking in the most calm voice he could manage. "Children...Well, you're being sacrificed." Before there could be a hail of angry remarks and attacks on himself, Hermes raised his hand and asked if he could at least be heard out. "It's not that barbaric form of sacrifice you're all thinking of. That's just stupid and we would be losing valuable allies. _Point_, what is happening is known by all of you. We're dying. We're fading. We're losing our true forms and we're stuck to our human bodies. I can no longer make any passages back and forth to the human and under worlds. Poseidon cannot control his sea so it goes an endless rampage. Artemis can not handle her hunts. Hephaestus cannot light his forges. Ares loses battles. We're losing our edge as some would say."

"And you're sacrificingus for that?" Annabeth asked incredulously, glaring accusingly at her mother.

"Stop implying that it's the 'we'll slit your throat and spill it all over an alter' sacrifice. There's really no...other word as for what you guys are. I know you're going to be mad but it's probably not going to be permanent. Guys, we're getting rid of our godly status and giving it to you."

When nothing was thrown at him, Hermes continued on.

"We're hoping that if we switch our powers with yours...The fates' decision might be reversed. We don't know what strings they've cut – whether it be our human strings or our god strings. Either ways they're immortal. We can only try...We're just hoping that...You'llhelpusonelasttime?"

Percy was the first to voice his opinion.

"No."

"_What_?"

"I said no." Percy repeated tiredly.

Many immediately began criticizing his choices. Percy was slightly disappointed that some of them that were criticizing him had been his friends for years. The Gods looked displeased.

"Why Percy?"

"Because I'm _tired _of being a playtoy for the Gods." Percy answered honestly. "I've drank Dionysus' stale alcohol, I've shoved a god, been faceplanted into the crotch of another, have lost a good friend and my girlfriend. All in these last few weeks. When the war ended, I thought it would all be over. I'd be able to go back to Camp Half-Blood and sleep in and totally ignore Mr. D's orders. But _no_. I get this instead."

"But Percy–"

"I realise this is _selfish_, I _know_, so stop trying to convince me that I'm wrong. This is selfish of me. But hey guess what, the Gods are selfish too. You get to bear their burdens! You get to deal with their bullshit for the rest of eternity. I'd rather face death than have to see death everyday."

He realised now that Apollo's rant about the Crusades of Christianity had been a warning. He had been warning Percy about what was to come. Gods were selfish and they would continue to do so. The world would fall, with or without the gods. It really didn't matter. Weren't they obsolete, in the mainstream of things?

"It saves the world though!" Hermes said.

"Which I already did." Percy answered. "Don't feel like doing it again."

"You're being awfully unfai–"

"_Unfair_?" The word sounded odd, cruel and demented as it left Percy's mouth. It must be all this tension that was causing his sudden dramatic change in attitude. He did not feel quite like Percy any more. He was feeling like that mysterious puppet again. "You don't even have the right to use that word with your track record!"

"Just because I've made a _few–_"

"More like three thousand years worth."

That was the final straw. Something Puppet-Peresus had mumbled had caused Hermes to finally break. Percy realised that it was probably not wise to say that, but he had not been Percy at that moment in time. That was the mysterious marionette that had oddly been present lately. But Hermes was tired. He was sleepy, tired, strained, stressed, angered and probably hungry. Percy's last words had been the the straw that had broke the camel's back.

Hermes strode forward and shouted, "We're doing this! We're doing this now!" before grabbing Percy's wrist and sending the demigod on probably the worst acid trip of his young life.

**.**

**11. **_I wonder if you are listening._

**.**

They were both dropped into a dimension that Percy had never seen before. It was grey, dark and damp and he could feel his energy slowly be sapped from him. The demigod looked around for Hermes and was surprised to not be able to see the man but could still feel his presence. In his moment of confusion, Percy begun to wonder what he was doing here and what Hermes wanted.

It took a moment but Percy's memory from minutes ago returned to him and he gasped and choked. The air he took in was not air. It was putrid, stale.

Percy could feel Hermes coming closer and felt his knees go weak. Something, something in this dimension was drawing the life out of him. His mind reeled for the answer and his only conclusion was that he was humanly dying and the presence of the God of Thieves was slowly entering him. He was drowning in his dimension. He was drowning in himself.

He could feel his fingers spasm, his eyes squeeze shut and his lungs burn for oxygen. This air, this dimension, it was helping his drowning. Its stagnant tendrils were clawing at his throat and burned his senses that seemed to be running on overdrive in that dark world.

The demigod fell to his knees. Barely, he could feel Hermes slither toward him much like the snakes that had adorned his caduceus. Percy felt shamed now; so stupid. He had trusted Hermes. He had trusted the King of Lies and had fallen for his tricks. The results of his failures were here then. He was to be sacrificed to a world he did not want.

Cold lips brushed against his forehead.

"I'm sorry Percy."

The apology fell on deafened ears. They were too busy attempting to drown out their own reality instead of paying attention to the new.

Images, images of the past floated around him. He could feel himself sink back into the cold, dirty waters of the Styx. The Styx was even more polluted then before. It was dragging in even more human filth than the norm. Fragmented hopes, broken condoms, and snapped cell-phones floated by him all as he sunk lower and lower into that powerful water.

Water filled his lungs and they burned with protest. His mouth attempted to draw for the air that did not exist at the bottom of the dead river. Was this what it felt like to die? Was this what it felt like to drown? As a son of Poseidon, he was not given the chance of being able to drown himself. It was rumoured that the weak drowned themselves. When they wished to end the misery that was their life, they threw themselves into the water. They could not pull the trigger, so instead they let the water invade their lungs and waited for death's sweet embrace at the bottom of a dirty lake.

Percy felt his body burn. He felt it all burn except for that one spot on his back. He forced his eyes to stay open so he could see what was passing around him but could no longer keep them open for long. He burned. He burned all over. If it wasn't for the feeling of that cold water touching that small spot, he would mistake the dead water for that of burning flames.

When the demigod hit the bottom at last, he felt someone embrace him instead; pulling him back into an inevitable darkness. He attempted to fight, he attempted to scream. All he did was engulf more water. That's all there was. He was breathing water, seeing water, hearing water, touching water. All there was was water and that darkness slowly engulfing him. He was going to succumb to the one thing that had been his ally all these years. He was to be murdered by that of which he trusted most?

_Et tu, Brute?_

As the arms pulled him back and the water eventually left him, Percy was immediately thrown into an endless cascade of violent nightmares. His mother being torn to shreds by that Minotaur. He was twelve, small and stupid. Hades had not made it in time. His mother is screaming for him, telling him to run. She's screaming, screaming, screaming and that's all he can hear; all he can _think–_

Grover, Grover being crushed by the blind giant. This time, he is making no words but his expression said million. It screamed of pain; of the fire that was raging against the almost dead bottom end. The satyr's eyes bulged and his mouth opened and screwed shut again and again like a fish gaping for water.

Annabeth tranforming into a golden wolf and pouncing at him. Percy attempted to fight her off but all he saw were the eyes. The eyes, the eyes, those stormy grey _eyes_, screaming. They were screaming. The eyes were screaming for him. Endless screams echoed in his eardums. All he could not return the gesture. He was trappped; trapped in his dreams with no voice. All he wanted to do was yell, was to _scream– _

Then water, water is being splashed onto him. Percy bolted up, immediately attempting to stand and flee. Flee, flee, _flee _like a small animal. That's what he needed to do. Animal instincts were screaming the words in his ringing eardrums. _Flee, flee, flee, _**run you fucking moron!**

Weak, that's what he is. He has always been that. The War proved nothing. The war only proved that he was incapable of really amounting to anything. The time of the war had been his greatest point in life. The time of war had been his apex. He would get no higher. His life was already heading downhill fast. Like a colourless stone. There would only be moments before he finally hit the bottom.

There's more dull-throbbing in his ear. But this time it is not silence, or the rush of water attempting to manoeuvre its way into every open orifice or even his mother's echoing screams that just continued on in his head like a song set on repeat. It was a voice. Words were being spoken into his ear that his brain did not recognise. Greek, English, Zulu? Swedish? Finnish? Hungarian? Turkish? Vietnamese?

"Please–"

"–oh come you got–"

"– dude I am so _fuc–"_

On a whim, Percy's eyes fluttered open. When they opened, all he saw was a hazy purple sky above him that seemed to sway across the ceiling like an ocean wave. The floor before him felt like it was vibrating. It felt like he was laying on top of a living, beating heart.

Then, suddenly, a face moved in front of his view of the ceiling. His heart stopped.

The nightmare had yet to end.

His arms were sluggish, but he pushed away the face and got to his legs and moved away from the other. Percy turned after a few feet and clutched his chest. It burned, it burned, it burned _he was on fire_

Hermes stood up and looked at Percy. "Percy, we don't have much _time_–"

"We have all the time in the world!" Percy answered sarcastically. "We're just positively _drowning _in how much time we have!"

_pain, pain, pain, _**burning**

"Really, this isn't the time to be making jokes–"

"Hah! Not the time? But you gods are notorious for treating life as a joke! Just look at Apollo!"

"Perce, I'm serio–"

"Oh hey, guess what, I am too!" Percy was out of mind, he knew that. But he was dying. They both knew it. They were both dying. Humans forms could not survive in this dimension for long. Time was crucial and was definitely not on their sides. "Hey, guess what, I don't want to do this!" Percy felt the sensation of being drowned. He had no voice, he had controlled.

_Marionette, marionette. That is all you are._

Hermes made a face that generally looked like he was in immediate pain. "Please, Perce, you don't really have a _choi–"_

_ "_No one really ever does do they?" Percy said, once more interrupting the God. "You and Greeks and your idea of Fate versus Freewill. Really, I'd rather be left out of it! I don't want to become one with you! You're an asshole! I don't want to be an asshole!"

"Perce, you're not understanding–"

"What. What am I _not _understanding? You know something. I thought you were my friend. I thought you were my ally! Turns out, I get stabbed in the back by you instead. What is going on Hermes? Am I going to die? Am I going to live forever? Are you taking my body and making it godly? The exact thing I turned down months ago? Are you guys so fucking _selfish–"_

_ "_**Enough!"**

The shouted word reverberated around the room like a bad echo, reminding them both of Hermes sudden show of rage. The living walls shuttered and the floor beneath them beat harder. Hermes closed his eyes and began walking towards Percy.

Percy could not move. His limbs were weak, his head ached, his ears rang and it was a miracle that he was still standing. He continued to stand there as Hermes approached him. Percy would greet death with a handshake this time.

"Percy..." Sly fingers caressed his lifeless cheek. He made no outside notice of whether he felt it or not. "Why are you doing this?"

For a moment, Apollo's words rang in his head.

"_He makes one red rose bloom and admired by all, he withers!"_

Sluggishly, weakly, he repeated the words with a deadman's whisper.

Hermes's face lost all colour.

The floor below him began beating the rhythm of the heart once more. The demigod looked down and was surprised by what he saw. Bright tubes, coloured gold, were coursing under the purple flooring. They were like veins; going which way and that and carrying whatever ran inside them to some other location. It took a moment before what was inside the tubes came to him.

It was Ichor. It was the blood of the immortals that flowed underneath his feet.

Hermes followed his gaze. "The room is sacred. It's never been used before really. Do you know what it is?"

Percy didn't answer; gaze still locked firmly on one vein that looked thick and overflowing.

"Well, I don't know either. All I know, it kills humanity."

His head snapped up and he searched the other's eyes for lies. They were not lying. The Duke of Lies managed a smile.

"I'm sorry Percy."

"No you're not." He had found his voice again, but it was weak. "You're not sorry. In some way, you're glad."

"No! Why would you think that?"

"Because you still see me at fault for the death of your son."

"Percy, I for–"

"I'm an idiot who has never been brave enough to shut my ears." He answered breathlessly. "You hate me...secretly there's apart of you that wishes I was dead. I'm getting there. This place is killing me...isn't it?"

Percy was growing weaker. He fell to his knees, clutching at Hermes hand like a small child and struggled to laugh. "..._Once loved and enjoyed by all, is now left for dead._"

The God was distraught as he dropped to his knees and grabbed at Percy's shoulders. It could be seen in his face. He could not deal with another death. It was too soon. "You can't die. We're supposed to merge!"

"You mean our souls become one?"

"Supposedly...Yes. Supposedly, I'm supposed to...'die' and your supposed to take over my body. Or my...'identity'." The room was bearing its affect on him too. This was a room not for the living. This was a room where the living were brought to die. Or was this the room where the dying were brought to live? "Please, Percy. Please you're my last hope!"

"I'm everyone's last hope!" Percy snapped back. "I've always been the last hope..! The Chosen One do this...The Chosen One do that...!" He gave a violent cough and dropped his head.

The demigod was losing himself now. His vision was going blurry, his body felt like lead and his breathing became rough like the ragged edges of a cliff. His hearing was filled with the low drumming of the heartbeat that strummed on and an on and seemed to be lifting him away. The thrumming was carrying him far away.

Hermes' voice was nothing but a whisper over the loud thrumming of the heart. "Percy! Percy you can't die! I won't make it out of he–"

His head lifted slowly and green eyes met the others.

"Then the world will have to live without thieves then I guess."

Percy was pulled back then with the thrumming. He was swallowed into one of the veins and felt himself being carried off. Images passed once more around him but he was not being swallowed by them. They were floating by slowly and swirled around him like fog. A peaceful one from childhood rolled by and he reached out to touch it.

It all evolved into a calm, peaceful moment and he found himself sink into the ocean that had suddenly appeared. It was the Atlantic Ocean. The ocean he had grown up with. This time he was not burning. He was surrounded by the cool water and he sank lower and lower.

There was one last thing he heard before hitting the bottom of the ocean. It sounded like someone was crying but it sounded muted; quiet. Like they were attempting to hide it and were trapped behind a wall.

"Percy...Percy, I am so sorry..."

And then he was overcome by the wave of the ocean for the final time.

**.**

**12**_**. **__There's no need in rusty words or attitude _

**.**

When Hermes was thrown back into reality, they all know something had gone wrong. The God is thrown back from the room of the beating heart and had skidded across the floor violently. When he stood up shakily, his face is pale and his eyes have lost a certain light to them. He was a walking corpse. But his condition was only paid attention for a few seconds before they had noticed that he was lacking a certain something.

It took a moment. Percy had not returned.

And he would never return.

Poseidon was the first one to act on it. "Where is my son!"

Hermes did not reply. His eyes were vacant. He was lost in thought. It wasn't until the sound of lightening boomed across the throne room that Hermes snapped back in reality. But something was off with him.

"I fucked up guys." He answered. "I'm just such...such a...such a _idiot!_"

"What happened?" Demeter demanded. "Did it not work?"

"He...He refused to go. He refused to merge and suffered for it!"

"Hermes," Poseidon thundered, slow and menacing. "_Where _is my son?"

"Lost." The God answered. His voice was dead. "Lost forever. Lost forever in the waters of the Styx."

It was Annabeth who spoke next. "What do you mean he's _lost_?"

"Dead, lost. It both means the same things. Percy's gone forever." He attempted to take a few steps forward but his legs failed him and he stumbled before falling to his knees. "_And it's all my fault_."

Some would have accused that Hermes had begun crying but nothing was said. A heavy silence fell over the throne room as if the severity of the situation had yet to really sink in completely.

Hermes suddenly then gasped for air and clutched his chest, bending over painfully. His forehead touched the floor and the cold tile did nothing to cool down his burning forehead. The smallest of screams exited his throat, but it was silenced before it could be noticed. He gasped again, trying to get the smallest of air but nothing seemed to go through.

He was dying, Hermes was dying. He would be the fourth to go and not the last. Who knew who was going to be the last? They could all go at once or they could all go slowly. It was up to the Fates. It was _always _up to the Fates.

Hermes was starting to hate to his life in the few minutes before his end. He was going to fade at any moment and they all knew it but no one was coming to help him. It only proved how _selfish _they were. How selfish they really _all _were.

But, there was something at the back of his mind that sad other wise. Were they really that selfish? Were the Gods selfish creatures? They were going to give up their powers so the world could live on? Was that selfish? Was it selfish of them forcing people into it?

He was starting to question themselves all together. Maybe...maybe Percy was right. Maybe Percy was wrong. But he was right to some point. There was a part of him that hated Percy for being part of the reason why Lucas was dead. Percy could have _stopped _it! Had stopped it all! But he didn't. He hadn't even really tried. And now Luke was dead and he was dying too. Only problem was that he would not been joining his son in death.

He could feel his body go and he could feel his skin start to melt off of him and he immediately fell over onto his side.

Dying, dying, was this what dying felt like?

It was very painful. Maybe it was the death worthy of a G–

Then, as he felt himself breathe his last breaths, Hermes was thrown back into a wall. Slight life seemed to have slipped into him again and he could feel his heart starting to beat again.

He's not alone though. Someone is standing in front of him with their mouth open, eyes wide and hands on his shoulder. They're old, wrinkly and smell like the inside of a bingo hall. His eyes readjust and he realised he's staring into the face of a Fate.

She pulled back and laughed and began to speak in a language he barely remembered. She was mocking them, he knew that much. Everyone always mocked the Gods in a foreign language.

The Fate walked forward and stopped at the hearth in the middle of the room. She looked up, tilted her head in acknowledgement and addressed Zeus in broken English.

"Hello, Lord of the Skies. How have you fared?"

"Mistress Fate." Zeus nodded his own head before taking on all seriousness again. "What are you doing here?"

"I have come to see our work." She answered easily. "I see that you have devised a way to escape the fate?"

"You have to understand mistress," Athena began, "we can not just _leave _the humans. They will die without us!"

"Of course." The Fate smiled. "All humans die at some point don't they?"

"We couldn't let them all die at _once_." Athena cleared up. "The world would go dark if Apollo went, they've already lost their loves and alcohol, and all wisdom would be lost if I died. Please, we have to do this! We have to save the humans even though they don't deserve such a thing!"

"And what makes you think that they're deserving of living?"

"Nothing, humans are selfish creatures." Ares answered. "But, they don't deserve to live in a world of darkness or die. They don't deserve to lose anything because of our own mistakes. They've made mistakes in the past and so have we. But the humans should not suffer this time just because we're selfish too."

"And your thoughts?" She turned to the demigods. Thalia spoke up. "Humans are nasty creatures but they don't deserve to die just because we're all fuck-ups. I...I as much as I hate to say it, would take the place of my father if needed. It if it's needed to be done to save the world, then it will be done and be done it shall."

The Fate smiled and looked back at Hermes, who stared back in confusion. "And Hermes, why do you think your friend denied this chance?"

Hermes immediately answered. "He's done being the puppet of the Gods."

She smiled. "I see."

"Excuse me Mistress," Hades suddenly asked. "Why are you here?"

"I had wanted to see how you are all faring. I have to say that I'm quite pleased with how it's turned out! You've passed the test!"

When those last words slipped from her wrinkled lips, it seemed like time had stopped. Hermes spluttered and limped forward. "What _test_?"

Grover suddenly flailed awake from where he fell asleep on the floor. "I swear I didn't eat the answer sheet!"

Zeus looked to the Fate again. "What do you mean by a 'test'? Have you been playing around with us?"

"My Sisters and I have wanted to see if you were keeping up your responsibilities." The Old woman replied. "Which of course, I see that you have. You all remembered that it was your responsibility to keep the world functioning and realised, even though a bit late, that you should do anything to save the humans of the word. You were willing to give up your thrones to save them even though humans are selfish creatures and have always been selfish creatures. By passing up your immortality, you've proved that you're not all lost and still worthy."

"So...This was all a test." Ares said slowly. "All a test to see if we were up to our godsdamned _job_?"

"Essentially, yes. My Sisters and I have cut your strings. The Ones that are gone are not damaged in anyway I assure you. But your lifelines are still intact. The pact of ending the immortal life is not complete until we burn them. You shall all be fine soon enough."

"So Percy's not dead?" Hermes asked. Hope seemed to have crawled into his voice unexpectedly.

"Percy's dead?" Grover bleated before he shushed violently by Thalia.

"No. He is not." The Fate asked. "Well, he went in the Room of Memoirs wasn't it? A fake room employed to rid the dead of their last memories. The Living can't die in a room that's already dead. He will be fine when we restored everything to normal."

Demeter scowled. "And how will that be _done_?"

"We turn back time of course."

"You can _do _that?" Thalia asked.

"Of course. We control the lives of everyone. Time-turning is an easy feat for ourselves."

"So do you snap your fingers and then it's all done?"

"Silly child." The Fate laughed. "It's much more complicated than that."

Then everything when black.

**.**

**13.** _I just want to be sure about the ideal we drew together. _

**.**

"_He makes one red rose bloom and admired by all, he withers!"_

It was Apollo. Apollo's voice was in her head. It rang round and round and that's all she could hear for the moment. It was annoying, especially what he was saying. But why was this happening? Was he speaking to her for some unknown reason?

"_He makes one red rose bloom and admired by all, he withers!"_ What did this mean? Who was being controlled?

Was Apollo actually making sense?

She shook her head, laughing to herself. The Apollo of long ago seemed so far away compared to the Apollo of today. There was no connection; no lively spark that connected the two. She felt sad thinking about it. That the God of Sun was slowly going out with his dying sun. The madness would slowly eat away at his heart until nothing remained but the thought.

It was silly, but what did he mean by the thought running rampant through her mind? Was he attempting to _tell _her some_thi–_

"Hestia?"

The Goddess of the Hearth looked up and saw Dionysus look at her oddly. She managed a smile. "It's nothing."

"You sure? You look very...out of it."

Sweet Dionysus, always checking for her welfare. It was the least he owed her. That and a few bottles. "I am fine. Return to your meeting."

"...The meeting's over."

That struck her odd. "...It is?"

"It's been over for awhile."

Hestia looked around and noticed that most of the Gods had already departed to go do their separate businesses. That was..strange? Weren't they just bickering? Weren't they just fighting over the silliest things just minutes ago? If not _seconds _ago?

Her chest ached and she bit her lip. Did...Did she leave and not remember? Did something...happen? A fragment of her excellent memory was missing.

"I must have dozed off."

Dionysus looked at her oddly. "...You must have."

"Strange!" She commented. "How silly of me."

"Well, I was jjust seeing if you were all right. I need to return to that hellhole called Camp. Farewell, Hestia."

"Farewell, Dionysus."

That was strange. She could have sworn that they had all been talking about condom sizes while she had gone to stroke the fire. Hestia laughed and stood up to leave.

She needed a drink.

* * *

><p>Percy woke up with a sudden gasp; the tendrils of dream slipping away from his fingers like smoky fog. Suddenly he was struck with the strangest desire. It was not his stomach telling him anything, but more like just a sudden very odd desire that he can't really ever recall ever feeling.<p>

He wanted to punch Hermes in the face.

**.**

**14.** _In these broken times, scream strongly. _

**.**

All creatures are vain. That is the rule of thumb in life. All creatures are vain and in love with themselves. The modern world has dimmed this view of human life though, sending people to purposely hate themselves for not being perfect. Nothing perfect does ever exist and will never exist.

Gods, Gods are envisioned to be considered perfect creatures. Immortality, good-lucks and implied riches. The three things all vain creatures want. But the Gods are as flawed as everyone. They're fickle, sarcastic and cruel. And especially are not pleased when things do not go their way.

Humans are vain, as are Gods. There are no perfect creatures in the world. There is no perfect being that will twist with the tide or ever do the right thing everytime. A myth they simply are. A myth like everyone else. Just like the gods.

The only perfect creatures of the world are the creatures that lurk at the edge of nightmares. They live forever off our fear and use our bodies as a basis. They survive off our nightmares, our fears and essentially are everything we want to be. They mock us, they hate us, they love us, they need us. The creatures we fear are the true perfect beings and those perfect beings are the true monsters.

Vanity and Greed go hand-in-hand as they say.

Perfect beings do not exist. They only exist in nightmares. Sitting, sitting, waiting, waiting. Their bloody claws reaching ever forward. Waiting, waiting, watching, watching for the perfect moment to strike.

The Gods are not perfect and sometimes they suffer for this. They lose love ones, break the wills of others and enslave the unwilling.

All Gods are not perfect and we suffer for it.

* * *

><p>"<em>There's enough regret carved into my body to kill me<br>The more I taste it, the sharper it gets  
>My murderous rage and hatred of the past<br>I get over one thing only for the agony to drive me towards tomorrow_

_Never again...never again I don't want  
>todance for anyone any more<br>Never again...never again__  
>I'm sick of this ridiculous ventriloquism."<em>  
>"Crime" by Girugämesh<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

SONGS:  
><em>Haru Yo Koi by Aiko<br>Crime _by _Girugämesh  
>Shining <em>by _Girugämesh  
>Alice human Sacrifice <em>by_Vocaloid_

FOUR MONTHS OF WORK. /FOUR/. AND SOME TWENTY-TWO THOUSAND WORDS IS MY PRODUCT. Ohhhhh, my sweet baby.

Anyway, I am a personal believer of the fact that the Gods would be severely offended by the Greeks. After all, they did turn their backs on the Gods – wouldn't you be pissed too? After all, they had given them so much and had often allowed them to break the Fates' will, even though it was not in the Gods power to do so. But of course, the lull of Christianity and its followers had been too powerful and even those who had attempted to stick to their fate were often met with violence and havoc.

Edit: I expected a lot more feedback actually, but hey? I don't mind. I enjoyed writing this 3


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